Darkest and Bravest
by juggernaut715
Summary: Guts arrives at Hogwarts to take the place as the DADA teacher in place of Umbridge. But neither him nor a still quite insane Casca can go on fighting demons night after night; who will help them? other than Gutsca no other pairings yet, full length expected, please review
1. Chapter 1

"Harry, what is it?" Hermione asked, as the Boy-Who-Lived was looking pensive, even though he had his favorite breakfast in front of him.

"Look at the head table." He said, gesturing with his fork. Hermione glanced towards the head table. The headmaster sat, eating his food. Nothing odd there. Snape was slicing his steak and eggs with evil precision, nothing unexpected there either. Nothing was out of place-except there was an empty chair at the end of the table, next to Hagrid. _Why is there an empty chair at the head table?_ She thought to herself. Just adding more confusion to her situation, a house elf appeared next to Dumbledore and whispered something in his ear, which he nodded at, and with a flick of his wrist the table extended and two more chairs appeared at the end of the table next to the first. With a loud bang the door to the great hall opened, and everyone turned to look at the three people entering the room.

The first person Hermione noticed was the woman. She had this…aura around her. And the way she held onto the girl's hand, almost like a child, made Hermione tilt her head. The girl was dressed like a stereotypical witch, though she couldn't have been more than 12 years old. The woman had dark skin and even darker hair. She wore…well, was _wrapped_ in cloth. She was casting her gaze wearily at everyone around her, as though she expected the students to all attack her with knives and pitchforks. The girl led her up to the head table. That was when Hermione noticed the third person. He entered after the women did, and she noticed the way the grown female eyed him with suspicion and, the best word to describe it, _hate._ He was tall, almost as tall as Hagrid, though perhaps a foot shorter. He was cloaked and completely covered other than the handle of… something coming out the back of his cloak, and his head. He had a scar running across the bridge of his nose, and the rest of his face looked like a bear had mangled it. Burn marks traveled up the left side of his face, and his right eye was closed, hinting that it wasn't functioning. His jet black hair had a patch of white in his bangs, which were soaked with the rain from outside. Odd that he was soaked and the women were not. Hermione assumed it was because he had covered them from the rain with that massive cloak of his.

He moseyed across the hall, taking his place at the end of the table, next to the girl. The woman was still eyeing him like he would kill her if she looked away. The silence in the hall finished when Dumbledore rose and spoke.

"I have a few announcements to make, as this is the beginning of a new year. Firstly, I would like to remind all of our students that the Forbidden Forest is, in fact, forbidden. Secondly, George and Fred Weasly, fireworks are _not_ legal contraband on school grounds." A pair of giggling twins high-fived across the table from Harry. "And lastly, I would like to introduce several new professors to Hogwarts. This," he said, motioning to the small girl, "is Professor Schierke, and she will be teaching Practical Magic Studies." Murmurs and whispers spread throughout the crowd of students. Wasn't all magic practical? Why was a girl so young a professor? A coughing from Dumbledore restored silence. "The man who sits a seat away from her is Professor…Guts." One or two students laughed at the name. Guts? What kind of a name was Guts? "He will be teaching Defense against the Dark Arts." Immediately the room was silenced. A new DADA teacher, hopefully one that would last more than a year. But before anyone could think about what they just heard, a "hem-hem" was heard from a pink toad sitting a few seats from Dumbledore. Said pink toad gave a speech which no one clapped at and no one enjoyed. When she sat down she found a piece of egg thrown at her, staining her pink coat. It came from the woman sitting next to the girl. A few brave students applauded the act, but mostly there was just…silence. "Bad w-woman!" The unintroduced woman said, with effort in her voice. She was growling audibly. A touch on her hand from the little girl silenced her, and she went back immediately to eyeing Professor Guts with suspicion. Umbridge stood up in shock. The woman just threw something at her, insulted her, and then ignored her?! "How-how dare you!" She said, pulling out her wand, something everyone opened their eyes wide to. It was a bit of an overreaction to having something thrown at you. She could use a spell and clean it up, simple as that, but she had to make a big deal out of it. Pointing her wand at the woman she opened her mouth to chant a spell, but stopped when Professor Guts stood up, the chair being thrown against the wall. His one open eye bore a hole into her and she nearly dropped her wand. Though he hadn't even moved, hadn't even spoke a word, there was an implied understanding that Guts was not someone to get on the bad side of, and apparently, attacking the woman was something _bad._ Hermione observed this with confusion. Why? Why was he standing up to defend a woman who apparently hated him for all his worth? She was still eying him with that hateful gaze even as he defended her. After a few moments Umbridge decided that her life was not worth discipline the woman, and she sat down, flustered. The man continued to stand, as though he had something to say. And he did.

"This is Casca." He said, in a dark, engrossing, rough and tumble tone. It was implied he was talking about the woman. "If any harm comes to her…" he said, glancing around the entire room, including even the _headmaster_ in his gaze. "I will kill you." He said, his voice unwavering. Dead serious he was, threatening every single person in the room. Once he spoke he reached behind him with one arm and gripped his chair, righting it. There was an audible gasp from the students. His arm was covered in armor, like a medieval knight. It was solid black, and covered with spikes all across its surface. There was a wicked spike at the elbow which could be used to stab someone with in the middle of a fight. Even the individual knuckles on his fingers had two inch spikes on them. With that, he sat down. And so, breakfast resumed, everyone one death threat higher.


	2. Chapter 2

"What do you think about the new professors, Hermione?" Ron asked, barely holding back his own opinions.

"I think the girl is too young to be a professor. That Professor Guts though…"

"He's scary." Harry spoke for all of them.

"Isn't it great we just happened to have signed up for all those classes?"

"Ha-ha."

Time skip.

After three uneventful periods of Herbology, Potions, and Transfiguration, the Golden Trio found themselves in Practical Magic Studies. Schierke sat at the desk in front, the woman next to her. Most of the students guessed Casca was insane. Based on what Hermione had seen so far, she agreed. What could have driven her to insanity, though?

"Everyone here uses wands?" The girl asked. More than a few people giggled. Hermione ignored them and shot her hand into the air.

"Students at Hogwarts use wands because of their generally accepted use in-" she was cut off by the girl raising her hand.

"I was just curious. I don't care about the reasoning." She spoke with the grace of someone much older than herself. "I'm used to using my staff," she said, motioning to the wooden staff in her hand with a tilt of her head. "Now, who here knows of the four deities?"

No one raised their hands, not even Hermione, who had no idea what was being talked about. "I'm not surprised," the girl said, standing up from her chair and walking in front of the desk, pointing her staff towards the chalkboard, four large words appearing on the board.

_Infernos. Nero. Aetherius. Gaia._ Hermione recognized the second one and the last one. Nero was Greek for water, and it showed up often enough in her textbooks. Gaia was another name for "Mother Earth." "These are the names of the four deities. Whether or not you choose to believe it, they are the reason your petty magic works." This got a few tilted heads and open mouths from the students. Hermione's hand shot up once again.

"What do you mean, 'petty magic'?" She asked, slightly insulted with the remark. "The magic," the professor continued, "you use," she said, glancing across the classroom, "is petty."

Hermione lowered her hand slowly, allowing the professor to continue her explanation.

"Magic is, though you don't have the concepts in your head, since you only _use_ and do not _understand_, based on something called Od. Od is the energy all around us, potential and spiritual and physical, and it allows our magic to work. If you think lifting a feather is so easy because of your wand, you're dead wrong." She turned around and picked up a feather on her desk, throwing it out into the air in front of her. Without speaking a word she pointed her staff and the feather immediately became still. "All magic can be increased in strength, longevity, and effectiveness, through understanding of Od. _Wingardium Leviosa_." She said, with a sneer in her voice. Hermione assumed she didn't actually have to say the spell. After reciting the spell she swung her back into its resting position. The feather stayed still in the air, getting several odd looks from the students. "Confused?" A few heads nodded. "Let me confuse you a bit more then." Not muttering a single word, the girl moved the feather around the room at a frightening pace, all without a movement of her staff. It tickled Ron's nose, made Malfoy sneeze, and settled itself on Neville's head.

"The powers of Practical Magic Studies will let you do something like this," the girl muttered, gathering her strength within herself. Speaking a few words in a language even Hermione didn't even vaguely understand, the girl closed her eyes and a large wheel of fire appeared behind her, in front of the desk. The woman who sat behind the desk didn't seem perturbed by the fire at all; in fact, she looked at it as though it was expected. "I AM INFERNOS!" The girl yelled at the top of her lungs, her own voice over shadowed by one of the great four deities. "WHAT'S THIS? WITCHES AND WIZARDS BEING TAUGHT TO SUMMON ME? MY, MY, SCHIERKE, I DIDN'T THINK YOU HAD THE GALL. HOW'S THAT SWORDSMAN TREATING YOU AND THAT WOMAN? I'M SURPRISED YOU STICK AROUND AFTER ALL THAT HE-"The voice cut off and the wheel of fire disappeared immediately. The girl was visibly drained by the effort. A few of the people at the front of the room were welcoming the cold air, as they were sweating through their robes just moments ago. Hermione noticed the girl was blushing a deep red.

"Apologies." She said. "I didn't think Infernos would mention anything of value." With that, the bell rang and students picked up their bags and left the classroom, most of them a bit put off by the summoning of a god in the classroom. Hermione stayed behind, letting Harry and Ron go on without her.

"Excuse me, Professor." The little girl turned at the voice, bright eyes examining the girl before her, a girl who was nearly 5 years older than her and yet knew only a small percentage of magic that she did.

"What is it?"

"I was curious Professor, about what that deity said about this "swordsman." "

The girl sighed, visibly. "You'll meet him in your Defense against the Dark Arts class. Now run along, I've got to take a nap.

What does that mean; I'll meet him in my DADA…Professor Guts? No. He wasn't a swordsman-but what was that handle in his cloak?


	3. Chapter 3

It was the end of the day. The final period of the day, and it was DADA. Everyone in the classroom was a nervous wreck. No one wanted to face the horrifyingly scary man who was to be teaching them about Defense, when in all likelihood he would kill them. And he was late. Class was supposed to begin nearly ten minutes ago and yet he still hadn't arrived. Some of the students had clustered in groups and were talking among themselves, the Golden Trio among them.

"What do you think? Is he coming?"

"I don't know. All I know is that he should have a good reason for being this late on his first day, or Dumbledore won't hear the end of it."

It was then that the door opened. In walked the cloaked man, his brow visibly sweating. He was carrying a large trunk, which made several students eyes raise. "Come with me." He said, leaving the room before anyone could say anything.

They followed him down the hall, several of the students eyeing his armor with suspicion and nervousness. Soon enough they were outside in a field with a few trees here or there. One tree stood out among them all- a massive oak that stood a good three hundred feet into the air. They gathered at its base, and Professor Guts set the trunk down in front of them all, knocking the lid off with his armored fist. Inside there were weapons. Swords, mostly, but there were some things that the students had never seen before. "Make a line." Guts said, and the students did so. "After today, come to my class wearing more practical attire. Now take your bags and put them by the tree, then get back in line." Everyone did as they were told. "Step forward, you." Neville stepped forward, his brow and rest of body sweating profusely. Guts eyed him before placing an armored right hand on Neville's left shoulder, squeezing lightly.

"Strong shoulders." He grunted, shifting the weapons in the trunk, pulling out a sword nearly three feet long, handing it to Neville, who almost dropped it with its weight. It was a _real_ sword. Not a decorative mantelpiece that the students had seen all around Hogwarts. It's edge was sharp, which Hermione realized when she lightly tapped the edge of her pair of stilleto daggers.

"Professor?" She asked, hesitantly, as the man ignored her hand waving in the air.

"What?" He asked, no annoyance shown in his voice. He hadn't noticed the hand as there wasn't a weapon in it.

"Why are we getting weapons?"

"Because you'll need them." He said, cryptically.

"But…"

"But you have a wand?" He said, finishing her sentence before she could blink. "Imagine the moment you meet a demon face to face. Do you think you'll have a chance to reach into your pocket and pull out a wand? What about if your wand happens to break, or you lose it in the crossfire? No. There is nothing more reliable than something with a sharp edge."

The students blinked a few times. This was the most the man had said in his entire stay at Hogwarts. Then he continued passing out weapons. Malfoy was sneering and grinning as he swung his falchion around in the air, pretending to fight something that didn't exist. Harry was next in line.

"You…" Guts said as he eyed the boy carefully. Placing a hand on his shoulder Guts shifted his original thoughts about a hatchet. "I know what you could use." He reached into the bottom of the trunk, pulling out all other weapons and spilling them on the ground as he pulled out a massive sword almost as tall as Harry.

"You've got a wiry frame, one which could move even if your legs were chopped off and you were choking on your guts. Here" He said, holding the massive sword out to Harry, who fell over when he received the massive weight. This earned a laugh from Guts. Laughs which sound like it hadn't been used in a long time.

"You remind me of myself when I was a child." He said, cryptic with his word choice. What did he mean about his childhood? Had he received a big sword as well? "From now on these weapons will not leave your side. You will care for them as though they were a part of you. And you will _not_ fight without my permission." He said, casting his eye over the crowd.

"Now get to know your weapon." The students went through motions of fighting things that didn't exist. Some of them slashed weapons that were meant to be thrust, some couldn't lift their weapon from the ground, and some of them had the gall to try and attack another student. One of which, was Malfoy.

"Come on Potter! Let's see what you can do with that big sword of yours!" He taunted, swinging forward with his falchion in an amateur slash. The strike made Harry fall backwards; he had dodged it, but in order to do so he had to drop the massive sword he had been given. The event had caught Guts eye.

"Malfoy." A low voice spoke. It sounded angry. "Did I give you permission?" The man loomed over Malfoy, a shadow enveloping his entirety. "N-no." The man suddenly smiled. "That'll be…100 points from whatever group you are. Green? 100 points from green." "It's called Slytherin!" Someone called out. "Ah, thank you. 100 points from Slytherin. And you," Guts said, turning to Harry. "What in the hell was that?"

"What?"

"You dropped your sword."

"Y-yes."

"What have you got to say for yourself?"

"It..it's heavy?" This earned another laugh from Guts.

"You think that toothpick is heavy? Oh well. You're not nearly as strong as I am, but even so…" The man trailed off. He reached down and picked up the sword, handing it back to Harry, who fell over once again. "Stay with me after class and I'll about getting you a handle on moving some weight. Now swing it." It was odd. The man was supposed to be instructing them but the only thing he had corrected so far was Harry dropping his sword. Ron was finding a bit of trouble with his bearded axe, and yet Guts made no move to help him.

"Professor!" He called out in exasperation.

"What?"

"I can't figure this thing out, I've tried swinging it this way and that but I can't get a handle-"

"Figure it out." Huh?

"Huh?"

"I said figure-it-out. There's no point in me telling you everything."

What did he mean by everything? He had barely said a word of instruction and had just passed out weapons to people who had no experience whatsoever.

"Professor, I'm having the same problem with my knives. Perhaps if you gave a bit-" Hermione was cut off by a glare she expected only people who had died had seen.

"You want instruction?"

"Y-yes, Professor."

"So you'll be taking the easy way out then?"

"I'm sorry?"

"Though you might not have come into the world the same way I did, or was raised in a band of mercenaries, I still expect you to learn to use a sword the way I did."

"How exactly was that, Professor?" Malfoy sneered. He should keep his mouth shut, a number of students concurred.

"By swinging it over my head until I sweat blood, and then swinging it more." Malfoy was silenced by this remark. By the looks of Guts, he was dead serious. But Malfoy was too incompetent to stay silent for long.

"Just how good are you with a sword Professor that I haven't even seen you hold one?" Guts eyes opened wide with this remark. "Do you see anything that needs to be destroyed, Malfoy?" "Nothing except a bunch of little Gryffindor's." He said with spite in his voice. "I repeat, Malfoy," Guts said with a more intense tone. "Do you see anything that needs to be beheaded? To have its guts spilled on the floor and then choked with their liver as a gag? To have its skull caved in by beating it senseless with one of its own limbs that you removed, by force, from its body?" Now Malfoy was silent. "I don't see anything either. And for your information, my sword is on my back, within easy drawing distance in case anything _does_ appear. Now, get back to swinging your toothpick."

The rest of the class went by smoothly, with the teacher begrudgingly caving in as Hermione was swinging her daggers like you would an axe, and it was too irritating for him to ignore. Gripping her arms with his hands from behind her, the cold armor sending shivers down her spine, the black spikes seeming too close for comfort, he guided her hands through the motions. "You pierce, thrust, or stab with a dagger. In your case, you have two different daggers, in fact, dagger and knife, all together." "I do?" Hermione asked, lifting both dagger and knife to her eyes for inspection. He was right. One of the daggers was much larger and thicker than the other, which was thinner and could probably be called a very, very thick and heavy needle. "The heavy one is called a Sax knife. It could be stepped on by Infernos himself and it wouldn't melt." The mention of the deity piqued Hermione's interest. Just how intertwined were those three? "The thinner one is a Spinner. It might be thin, but you'd be hard pressed to bend it. You start your attack with the Spinner, as its lighter weight makes it faster." He put her hands through the motions of stabbing someone in the stomach, chest, arm, neck, and even _eye_ before he moved on to the Sax knife. "The Sax knife is what you'd use as a finisher, or if you needed to break a large defense, such as armor. You could use both knives at once and pry the armor off someone, but that's a bit of an advanced technique." _I wonder if I could pry that armor off you…_ she muttered to herself. He put her through the motions again, this time the sax knife was used more like a sword, either stabbing or _slashing _across the torso of her imaginary foe. "I thought you said daggers were for stabbing only?" "A sax knife is a knife. A spinner is a dagger. There's a difference." Barely. Hermione noticed a difference in the way he taught her the sax knife motions. His hand felt limps and…indescribable. But the knife seemed to pull itself to his hand, as though there was a force in his hand that pulled weapons to it. She must have been imagining things.

Soon enough Guts was helping Ron with his bearded axe. "Do you know what a tricep is?" The man asked Ron. "Isn't that…this?" Ron said, pointing to an area on his arm, which was immediately poked and prodded by the armored right hand. "And yours is weak." Ron blushed at the comment. "But you have potential, from what I've seen. Here." He said, taking the axe from Ron. He held it one hand, as it was supposed to be used. "Oh." The man said, slamming his hand to his face. "This is supposed to be used with a shield." He walked over to the pile of things on the ground and pulled a buckler out of the pile. "The bearded axe and buckler were a combination typically used by the Dwarves. It's a wicked combination if used right." He handed the shield to Ron, whose arm sagged dramatically with the weight. _Are all wizards this weak?_ "Here, let me show you." He stepped behind Ron and placed his arms on his. "First you block. Then strike. It's a natural way of this combination, called a counter. Your opponent staggers because the weight of his weapon doesn't feel right when being knocked away, and then you go in for the kill." He put Ron's left arm forward, raising the buckler, and gave the arm a jerk, sending the buckler forward. "You block…" he said, as he moved Ron's entire torso with little effort, "and strike." He moved the buckler out of the way and brought the axe down in a wicked arc that would have removed the chin of the foe if they weren't careful. "You can counter with different swings." Guts said, repeating the process, first blocking and then striking, this time swing the axe in from the side, a strike which would have got the enemy in the gut. "And if you're skilled enough, you can perform a _shield bash._" He raised the buckler to block, went through the blocking motion, and then swung the arm forward, an attack which would send an enemy reeling back with a broken nose. The center of the buckler was solid metal while the rest was wooden, in order to embed any and all weapons that attacked and render them useless. The metal could be painful. It was covered in spikes that were longer than Guts fingers, and he had big hands. "Keep practicing," he said, encouragingly. Ron practiced away. He could barely raise the shield without Guts supporting his arm, but he tried his best. He forced his arm up and performed an amateur strike after going through the motions of blocking.

And then Guts looked at Malfoy. Malfoy, who was using two hands to swing a falchion. _Crap. That one needs a shield as well._ He ran through the same basic training that he did with Ron, except modified for a sword. Malfoy was pretty good, very good in fact. Other than the fact he could barely hold his sword up for more than a minute at a time.

Guts moved on. He saw a girl from Ravenclaw with a quarter staff. Guts had already forgotten her name, as she was barely noticeable from the collection of students. "You." The girl paused her swing of the stick like it was a sword, both hands at one end. "What's your name?" "Shay." She said in a quiet voice, one that didn't seem used to talking. Shay was used to being in a library, reading books, making potions, staying _unnoticed._ She didn't think DADA would be so hard, nor physical. She could barely move the light wooden staff that she held completely wrong in front of her. Guts pulled the staff from her grasp and held it properly. "You hold it like this. A quarterstaff-user has to be balanced," he said, widening her feet before handing the staff back to her. She held it like someone who didn't want to hold it. Which she didn't. "You don't want to be here, do you?" She nodded, nervously. Guts nodded back, closing one eye. "I don't understand that feeling. Not wanting to hold a weapon, not wanting to fight." He said, his speech drawing the attention of several nearby students. "When I was a child there were few choices I had. I could either starve to death. I could be killed by the cold that threatened me every night under the stars. I could be killed by a sword, axe, arrow, and any weapon in the world. Or, I could fight." He said, opening his eye and focusing in the girl in front of him. "What would you do if you were pulled from your books and parchment and had such choices? Would you take the cowards way out and cut your wrist?" She hesitated. "You probably would. Come with me." She followed him over to the weapons trunk and he searched the pile on the ground. "Where in the hell…" he dropped what he was holding and glanced in the trunk. "Ah." He reached in and picked up something still inside the trunk that fell off the sword as it was lifted up. It was a small case of…well, Shay had no idea. He held the case like it was a child, and handed it to her. "Be careful. They're sharp." Unclasping the button that held the case together, Shay opened the case to find a set of rings. Guts scanned the crowd, finding several other people wearing the same purple robe and having the same dysfunctional attitude towards fighting. "You, you, and you." He said pointing at them. "Drop your weapons and come over here. Give me back the case." He took it and let the rings fall into his hand, examining each one before handing one of each to the students. "Don't put them on yet. What I'm about to tell you is vital to use of these rings." The students nodded. "The only reason I'm giving you these is because you are weak." Well, that was straight forward. "But the weak can be strong in a different way from the rest." Oh. "Each of these rings was owned by a…close acquaintance of mine." He said with some effort in his voice as he said _close acquaintance. _"They contain a single spirit each. You, Shay, pick your ring first." Shay looked at the rings. One was bright red and she swore she could see tiny flames coming off of it. The second ring was dark purple and had an eerie glow to it. The third, the one she set her eyes on with intent, had thorns all about it.

"What is this one?" She asked, motioning to the thorned ring. For the first time that day, a smile appeared on Professor Guts face. "That was Farnese's favorite ring…" he said like he was in a dream before snapping out of it. "It commands the Serpent of Thorns…and it was the first ring my acquaintance acquired." Shay reached out and picked the ring up, the thorns piercing her flesh easily. "Which finger?" She asked. "Thumb." Well, that's an odd choice. She slid the ring on with some effort, as the thorns dragged in her skin as she tried to do so. When she go the ring all the way on, however, the thorns pooled into one single thorn, which came from the top of the ring. Instead of the rest of the ring, which was a solid green, it was yellow. "The serpent can be called just by will alone. This one," he said, motioning to the final ring, "has an incantation." It was bright blue and had electricity arcing between the sides of the ring. Shay wanted to experiment with her ring, so she willed the serpent to appear. And appear it did. The single thorn extended and became a cluster of thorned roots and branches, swirling around her wrist and up her arm before taking a 'perch' on her shoulder. It had taken the form of a serpent, and had glowing yellow eyes, and a thorn which acted as a tongue, shooting out of its "mouth" every so often. The rest of the students were given their rings, which included a sprite of fire, a demon of Nosgoth, and a fairy of Aitherius, one of the four deities Shay had heard of in practical studies.

Soon enough, class was over, and Harry Potter, with a sword he could barely carry with both arms, was approaching Guts.


	4. Chapter 4

"It's a bit late for you to learn how to use Apostle slaying as a style."

"W_hat-_slaying?"

"Well, it's what I call it, based on what I've killed so far. You don't need to know what I'm talking about, all you need to know is that using a sword so big is something learned when I was a child, and you are not a child."

"Ah." Wait, what? "What do you mean, 'a sword so big'?" Guts smiled and reached behind himself to grip the handle of his sword. With almost no effort, what could only be described as an _obelisk_ was now leaning on Gut's shoulder. It was huge. It couldn't be called a sword, no; it was more like _a slab of iron._ It was beyond simply massive. It was solid black except for its mirror like polished edge, an edge which was nearly as big as Harrys hand when his fingers were splayed wide.

"What in the hell…"  
"This is the Dragonslayer."

"You use _that_ as a sword?!"

"Yes. Now, shut up and watch me." Guts brought the sword down into position where he could attach his left arm to the handle. He brought the sword up over his head, and then brought it down like there was a man who needed to be killed in front of him. And the sword stopped, just where he had begun lifting it. The grass beneath swirled, and it wasn't from the wind.

"When you can complete that motion ten times in a row, I'll begin to give you private lessons. The key is your hand positions, and the way you hold yourself." He put the sword back on his back, beneath the cloak, hiding it from view. He gripped Harry's arms and brought them up, the sword with them. "You've got to think strength and stability. Wide stance." He said, kicking Harrys feet so wide he thought he would fall over. "Hold it tight, hands wide as well. Relax your shoulders and focus on keeping the sword still." The voice was coming from further away. Harry took his focus off the sword and looked up, seeing the man in front of him, not holding his arms anymore. "What?" He said, not sure how to understand what he was doing. He was holding something far too heavy for anyone in front of himself, and without aid. "Of course, it's still pretty heavy isn't it?" Heavy didn't begin to describe it. Harry could barely hold the blade steady, and it was constantly dropping the entire 8 words that were spoken between them. By the time Gut's had said "it" the sword had already touch the ground. He laughed. "You've got to build strength. You'll find you'll gain it as you swing a sword, but you'll need more muscle than that if you want to start training immediately. Go for a run every morning and every evening, around the castle. Run until you can't run anymore. It'll build your legs up. And then, whenever you've got free time, swing your sword." Harry nodded. Nearly an hour had passed and Harry was late for dinner. Guts gave him a sheath for his sword, consisting of a belt and loop that went over his shoulders, and a long piece of leather, curved at the bottom, which would catch the tip of his sword. A strap on his shoulder held the blade. With that, Harry left for dinner, hungry for meat and sustenance after overworking his body. He and Guts walked in silence towards the great hall, as they were both heading there for food.

It was a bit of an odd sight for everyone to see Harry come in with Professor guts, soaked in sweat but with a grin on his face the size of a canyon. And a sword nearly as big on his back. He sat down at the table with Ron and Hermione, Ron who had his buckler on his back and axe at his waist, and Hermione who had both dagger and knife sheathed in a loop going around her torso, over her shoulder on one side and under on the other. Food appeared before him, and he ate. Guts found an even larger serving of the same food as Harry at his place. Schireke greeted him, and Casca eyed him with suspicion. Guts got about halfway through his meal before the shadows in the corner of the room gained eyes and teeth. His Mark began to flow blood, as did Casca's. He said nothing. He stood, glancing over at Dumbledore and nodding. The old man nodded back, his stare becoming icy and cold. With no more roughness than was required, Guts grabbed Casca by the wrist and pulled her out of the room, despite all her protests. They continued down the hall, and out into the field. All the students wondered where their new professor and the woman were going. A few Slytherin laughed at some horrible joke Malfoy made, all of them getting up, apparently going to follow the new Professor. At this, Dumbledore stood up, silencing everyone. "I would like for no student nor professor to follow Professor Guts and his companion. I have asked them to take care of something for me, and I would not like them interrupted by curiosity." He said this with a certain twinkle in his eye. At this, the Golden Trio stood up and left the room, apparently all having to go to the bathroom at once. Malfoy and his two idiots followed behind, as did a few brave Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws, Shay among them. They knew they couldn't follow Guts and Casca to the field, so they contented themselves with going to a window to look out at them. It was too dark to see…but Harry swore he could hear the woman screaming, and other peoples screams mixed in. And some…thing…was roaring. It wasn't a full moon, so a werewolf was out of the question. Whatever was happening wasn't stopping. After a while everyone left, except the golden Trio. But soon they left too.


	5. Chapter 5

Morning came and so did the first period of the day. For Harry, Hermione, and Ron, that meant Herbology. Today was a field trip-literally. They were to go to the field and pick Demon Tears from the field. Well, there was certainly a sight to behold on the field. The entire field was red. Not just because whatever the field was made of was red, but it was _red. Blood red._ And there was blood everywhere, and it stained the shoes and bottoms of robes of the people who walked through it. Eventually they reached the area where the Demon Tears were growing. They had grown exponentially overnight. "Demon Tears aren't watered by water, as most herbs are. They are watered by blood. As you can see, though for whatever reason I can't tell since I haven't blood-ed them since last month, there is an exponential growth occurring in the plants with the blood all around them." As she spoke one of the flowers literally stuck out a _tongue and lapped at the blood from the ground._ Harry bent to pick one of the tears, but something caught his eye. The flower had a tiny bit of a cloak on it. It was the same as Gut's cloak. Standing up straight, Harry looked around the field and saw a dark figure hunched over towards one end. "Harry? Where are you going? Harry?!" Harry had taken off _running._ His sword was on his back, and it was hard to move around so quickly, but if Harry was right…and he was. Guts was there. He held Casca in his arms, against her wishes. She had a sword as well and would have been cutting Guts head off if he wasn't holding the blade with one hand. The other hand held her close to him, on his lap. He hunched over her, his own sword being leaned against for support. They were both covered in blood. Guts cloak was gone. He had blood seeping from his armor, though there weren't any openings in the plate. He just held Casca, silent as death itself, as he leaned against his sword. He noticed Harry, who was gawking at him.

"There was a fight." Guts said, not wanting to give an explanation for the blood that literally _soaked_ the field, and was staining his sword and armor red. Professor Sprout had followed Harry and had already called for Ms. Pomfrey, the school doctor. Upon the doctors arrival Guts stood up and handed Casca over to the doctor, letting go of the sword in his hand, dodging it when she swung it at him.

"Please. Look over any wounds she may have. Schireke can calm her down if need be." And with that, he turned around and picked up his sword. He had a cape on underneath his cloak, one that seemed to be part of his armor. His sword went beneath said cape, sheathed. Walking with a noticeable stagger in his step, Guts walked back towards the school. Harry could barely stay standing, what with the utter absurdity of the situation. Soaked in blood and shrugging it off? No explanation for a literal blood bath? Just what kind of a Professor _was_ Guts?

Guts was there at lunch. He had a new cloak, made of green cloth. Apparently color didn't matter much to him. He hadn't bothered to clean himself up; resulting in blood stained armored hands reaching for a second helping of beef stew. No one at the Head Table asked questions. Except for that fucking toad of a pink, Umbridge.

"What happened to you, Professor Guts? I hope you weren't doing anything dangerous on school grounds without-"

"Dolores," Dumbledore interjected, "Professor Guts is authorized to use force at all times on school grounds."

"Why in good heavens is he authorized-"

"With good _reason,_ Dolores. Reason which you don't need to understand, and if you cared for your sanity, wouldn't try to do so."

Umbridge eyed the blood stained warrior across the table with intent. Whatever had happened last night was violent enough to turn an entire field red with blood. She wanted to get to the bottom of this.

Time skip- Guts DADA class.

"Professor?"

"What?"

"W-well…" Shay stammered, unsure of how to ask the question without being blunt.

"What is it, Shay?"

"We were wondering why you…" her voice trailed off.

"Why I'm covered in blood? Why I left dinner halfway through and dragged Casca with me? Why I was in a blood soaked field this morning?" Shay nodded.

"Do you have any wish of keeping your sanity?"

"Huh?"

"I said, do you want to keep sane?"

"Y-yes."

"Then I won't tell you."

"I don't mind going insane, Professor!" Malfoy snorted. The professor eyed him tentatively.

"Very well, Malfoy. If you want to lose your mind you shall do so after class. Anyone else who is brave enough to hear the story of Professor Guts, join him." The rest of class passed in silence. Malfoy was still joking around and could barely get his sword off the ground. Harry, however, was finding the sword easier to lift after last nights and that mornings run. He could hold the sword up, barely, but it was shaky. He couldn't hold it up for more than twenty seconds, and that was at full capacity. He couldn't even swing it over his head once without falling over. But others were finding their weapons suitable. Hermione was slashing away at a fake enemy, a collection of straw and leather being her target. She was practicing with the Spinner, mostly. The Sax Knife was heavy, and would probably cleave the target in half if she used it too much, a point she proved as one strike lopped off one straw arm.

An hour later class ended and a collection of students stayed behind. Guts leaned against the oak tree, telling his students to sit on the ground before him. He stayed silent for almost a minute before Malfoy coughed. "I will not tell you everything. But I will tell you the basics." A few people whispered. Basics of what? Guts continued. "How many of you have seen this mark?" He said, gesturing to his neck. The mark was clearly visible. An odd spider-like collection of lines gathered on the back right side of his neck, nearly covering it completely.

"This is the mark of a sacrifice."


End file.
